


one for the ages

by shadeslayed



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Tennis, Multi, Tennis, US Open, i'm not bothering to tag all the friendships but this is a team-as-family type fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 10:23:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15839304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadeslayed/pseuds/shadeslayed
Summary: An alternate universe in which the characters of Critical Role campaign 2 are professional tennis players competing in the 2018 US Open.-Beauregard is gunning for her fourteenth Slam, gearing up mentally and physically to face off against the women's number one Yasha, while Jester is a wildcard new to the WTA. Caleb is returning from time off for injury, and Mollymauk and Fjord are preparing to face off once again in Ashe stadium.Former pros Percy and Vex'ahlia de Rolo return from retirement to offer their commentary on the next generation of players.





	one for the ages

**Author's Note:**

> cheers to a spur of the moment au being my first published fic for this fandom!
> 
> i'm a tennis fan and a player myself, though i won't claim to be an expert about the tour or even the us open as an event. if anything is glaringly wrong, please inform me in the comments (especially stuff concerning the wta as i mostly follow men's tennis!)
> 
> many thanks to the lovely piper for beta reading and support
> 
> note that i had to make up surnames for many characters, with probably the biggest reach being that i used 'byroden' (the town they grew up in) as a surname for vex and vax. if anything seems too odd, or you have a better suggestion, please leave a comment.
> 
>  **EDIT 9/17/18:** as i was rereading this, i realized that the dates and win records for all of them did not make sense in some places, so i changed a few minor details. i will explain more in the end notes of chapter 2.

Caleb’s phone buzzes just as he’s climbing out of the ice bath.

‘ _shitty fuckin draw man :(_ ’ Beau’s text reads, and Caleb knows she isn’t talking about her own. Beau is sitting comfortably at number two in the world after an unexpected victory at Wimbledon earlier in the season, and barring any major upsets, she should at least make it to the quarterfinals without issue. Given that was as far as she made it the year prior, she doesn’t have to worry much about defending points either. Caleb himself is confident the young American will make it to the final, and she’s the favorite of many to win this year, despite the fact that she’s yet to beat Yasha Nydoorin, the women’s number one, on American hard court.

Still, the reigning champion of clay -- and now grass -- is not to be underestimated. Beau is gunning hard for her fourteenth Slam, and Caleb has no doubt that victory is coming soon.

Unfortunately, he is currently in a completely different situation.

‘ _The draw is what it is. I just need to play my best and we will see what happens_ ’ he replies, beginning to towel off and don a pair of sweats.

‘ _im not press caleb_ ’ is Beau’s almost instantaneous reply. ‘ _u can be upset about it_ ’

For a long moment, Caleb’s fingers hover about the keys as he debates his response. Even with Beauregard, who can be considered a friend despite their constant griping, he has trouble fighting the reflexive urge to hide his emotional response. He wants nothing more than to shove it down, insist everything is fine, and stuff his feelings into a tiny little box where they’ll stay forever.

But that’s what got him in trouble in the first place.

‘ _I don’t like it but I can’t change the results of the qualifier. I have been out for over a year and my comeback was not what I hoped it would be_ ’ Caleb finally settles on that happy medium between interview-worthy repression and baring his soul over text, though it’s probably not what Beau is looking for from him. Finally, he adds ‘ _I am upset. Thank you_ ’.

‘ _yr 1st round looked good tho. clean. kicked ass_ ’ This, Beau’s method of showing sympathy without pity, is something Caleb will be eternally grateful for. Media might try time and time again to paint her as callous, rude, or a sore loser to Nydoorin, but Caleb and the dozen others who actually speak to her and play with her know the truth. Beau is a dedicated competitor and a loyal friend, a player Caleb truly respects. ‘ _this is ur turn around i can feel it_ ’

Even Caleb’s protected ranking during his hiatus couldn’t save him from the hit his scores took after he returned to the game at the beginning of this season. His series of utterly dismal performances in arenas he had previously dominated was killing his confidence, and though his season might be looking up now, at 33 he was past the prime of his career and would never be able to regain his former glory.

At least, that was the opinion of the presses.

‘ _I felt good_ ’ Caleb informs her, completely honest. ‘ _Better than last week, at the very least_ ’

She texts a thumbs up. ‘ _hitting in 5 but ill watch you thurs morn if i can. Gnignt_ ’

‘ _Goodnight, Beauregard_ ’ Caleb finds himself smiling a little at his phone. He does actually feel better after the morning’s match, some little confidence restored at making it through the first round. With the aid of Nott, he’s kept appearances to a minimum and ignored social media, focusing exclusively on his game, and it seems to be helping so far.

He feels healthy and strong, with little pain aside from the typical soreness that accompanies playing a match. Looking in the mirror as he shaves and taking in his clean skin and the lack of bags under his eyes, Caleb feels like an entirely different man than two years ago.

As far as most of the world was concerned, Caleb was suffering from headaches caused by nerve damage in his knees and lower back, which forced him to withdraw from the game. The official story, which Nott and the rest of his team had reinforced through countless statements and interviews, was that his on-court breakdown had been the result of his deteriorating physical health, not the cause of it.

He has no idea what would happen if anyone knew the truth. After all, a stress-related breakdown didn’t exactly look good on a high-caliber athlete who was supposed to be at the top of his mental and physical game.

There are days when Caleb wonders if he should be doing this again, if he could handle it now when he couldn’t before or if he would crack under the pressure, but today isn’t one of them. His little taste of victory this morning as every aspect of his game clicked into place was addictive, better than any drug in the world.

In spite of everything, Caleb loves the game too much to spend the rest of his life sitting on his ass and petting Frumpkin. His cat can come on the tour with him.

-

**Jester Lavore (UKR) def. Toya Song (GER) 6-2, 4-6, 7(7-3)-6**

**Q:** Jester, you were the lucky loser this year, after your defeat in the third round of the qualifier… how did that affect your mentality going into this match, and do you feel any different now, after your first round success against such a renowned player?

 **JL:** I certainly feel very lucky right now! **[Laughter]** Toya and I were both playing very well today, but I think I was a little stronger and a little faster, and I was very lucky to have my mother Ruby here watching me play. **[Translated from Ukrainian]** _I love you, mommy!_ I think right now I am just focusing on preparing for my next match and trying to play as well as I did today.

 **Q:** You looked very confident in the first set but seemed to tire in the second. What was going through your mind after you spilt sets?

 **JL:** I was just thinking, I need guidance, you know? I need to know I can do this and prove I can do this. And I have always been very devout, so I prayed to the Traveler after the second set, and I think he heard me. I felt his presence on the court with me today.

 **Q:** Jester Lavore, everyone. You’ll see her in the second round facing Ornna. Good luck, Jester.

 **JL:** Thank you! And thank you all, you guys are so wonderful here in New York.

-

The first thing Yasha sees when she returns to the condo they’re sharing is Molly sprawled on the couch, naked as the day he was born save for a towel wrapped around his waist. His wavy purple-dyed hair is leaving a large wet spot on the side arm, and the tattoos covering his tan skin clash horribly with the tacky throw pillow’s pattern.

It makes the place feel like home instead of just another stop on the tour.

“You looked great out there,” he tells her with a smile, patting the seat next to him. “Back late though.” It’s nearly 2230.

Yasha shrugs off her kit and drops her hat, shuffling them securely into her pile. They’ve accidentally grabbed each others things before in their morning rush to the courts, and it’s always disconcerting to realize the bag in her hand is purple and red instead of black and white. Besides, it’s technically a breach of their sponsorship contracts, since she’s Nike and Wilson and Molly is Uniqlo and Head. “I had press.” She toes off her shoes and tugs her shirt over her head, though she forsakes the offered seat to head towards the kitchen and grab an orange and her laptop. “You had press too?”

Molly grunts noncommittally, and she can imagine his shrug even if she can’t see it over the back of the couch. “Not much. Nobody wants to talk to me, Yash.” His voice is low, and his Irish accent bleeds through thicker the way it always does when he’s tired.

That’s a lie if Yasha’s ever heard one. Molly is the number four going into the US Open, the highest he’s been ranked so far this season. Even when they aren’t winning Gustav’s entire group has always been a media curiosity. They’re less a team and more a circus, an amalgamation of genders, play styles, and sponsorships, unified only by the fact that no one but Gustav thought they would make it on the pro tour.

Yasha’s first few years turned pro were disastrous, as were Molly’s, then Gustav found them, and found them actually good coaches and hitting partners, and sponsors that gave a damn, and they started hitting better and actually making a name for themselves. Then in 2008 Molly stepped to the plate at Indian Wells, serving three aces in a row to snag a straight-set victory no one ever expected of a man who was supposed to go out in the first round. And just after that Yasha got her first Slam, and then her second and her third, dominating the game for a season and a half until Lionett came up from the juniors in 2010. That was eight years ago, and they’ve been neck and neck both as players and in titles ever since.

She drops onto the couch beside him and Molly swings his legs up into her lap, so she uses them as a table for her laptop. Molly’s half watching TV and half playing on his phone, although he’s paying enough attention to make a grabby hands gesture for the orange and peel it into a perfect spiral once she hands it to him. Yasha gives the program a quick glance before turning her attention to her emails. The program is tennis, but classic stuff, as Molly isn’t stupid enough to distract himself from his game by paying mind to the news coverage of their current event.

Two announcers are discussing the history of the US Open over footage of the historic de Rolo III and Byroden men’s finals in 1998. As she watches, the match onscreen changes to the women’s final from the day before, Vax’ildan’s sister Vex’ahlia versus Keyleth Ashari. Both twins won in tiebreak that year, in peak form at the top of their careers. There wasn’t a person in the world who could have predicted it was the last match of pro tennis either of them would play.

Vex’ahlia de Rolo stepped out of the public eye for nearly a year after the tragic and unexpected death of her twin, and though she eventually returned to the sport as a commentator, coach, and voice of knowledge, she didn’t reenter the circuit. Her husband competed for three more years, though he only won a single additional Slam before retirement.

Though the 1998 finals were certainly an example of beautiful and brilliant tennis at the US Open, Yasha isn’t sure why they’re focusing so heavily on the year until one of the panelists mentions that both Percy and Vex de Rolo are returning this year to commentate.

Finally the program moves forward, showing male winners of the subsequent years: Strongjaw twice, de Rolo, Strongjaw, Shorthalt, and then Strongjaw again, before Gilmore takes the cup for three years in a row. Then, in 2008, a skinny German 23-year-old with fiery red hair, beaming wildly as he hoists a trophy above his head. Yasha watches Widogast, Fjord Sailor, and Molly duke it out for the next decade, at least one of the trio playing in the final every year.

Then they review the women’s finals, with Kima Vord, Allura Vyorsen, Keyleth Ashari, and Pike Trickfoot trading off victories until 2010, when a younger, grinning, slightly shocked Yasha appears onscreen, cradling the trophy like it might be snatched from her hands and standing next to a grumpy-looking woman in blue. She remembers that match like yesterday, winning match point on an overhead Lionett missed wide, and the anger radiating off the smaller woman at the award ceremony. Even more vividly Yasha remembers the conversation after, when Beau stopped her in the hall with a gentle touch on her arm, and confessed she wasn’t angry at Yasha for winning, but at herself for the error.

Yasha rubs her arm, and Molly wiggles his legs a little, smirking at her knowingly.

“She is a very good player.” Yasha refuses to be shamed.

Instantly, pure joy spreads across Molly’s face, and Yasha realizes her mistake. “I’ll bet that’s not _all_ she’s good at,” he crows, before rolling off the couch and out of her reach. He plants a kiss on the top of her head and drops the peeled orange, sans one wedge, into her lap as he saunters off to his bedroom, leaving Yasha alone with her emails and the TV. “Don’t stay up too late! I’ll be gone when you get up, so good luck tomorrow.”

“Good luck to you as well,” she replies.

**Author's Note:**

> this will definitely be a multichapter fic, and i may even continue it as a series if the fancy strikes me. comments fuel the writing :)
> 
> find me on tumblr at [calebwidogayst](http://calebwidogayst.tumblr.com/).


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